Love Me If You Dare
by Red Warrior
Summary: Sothe plays matchmaker. He bets he can find a girlfriend for Volke in one week. His allies: Tormod and a good deal of cunning. Pairing: find out!
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer : **__First time writing about Volke ever. I hope he doesn't seem too out of character, but then again, I'm trying to get some of you to smile... This is the prologue, and next chapters will be longer. Can't tell the pairing, you'll have to find out on your own! XD_

_Path of Radiance characters aren't mine, although I'd like to borrow Volke. _**  
**

**Love Me If You Dare**

The birds chirped loudly and hurriedly got out of the way when Sothe came storming by, growling furiously and kicking at some unfortunate rock that was there. His hands shoved into his pockets, the boy grumbled under his breath as he stomped over to the stronghold. He walked briskly past Tormod, and wouldn't have noticed him had the red-haired teenager kept silent. "Been rejected by Volke again, uh?"

"I swear, what's up with that man!" the green-haired thief exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "I just want him to teach me to use knives like he does! I wanna be amazing too!"

Tormod looked at his exasperated friend and scratched his head. "Well, you know Volke is some kind of a loner, I don't think he thinks himself able to, err... _put up _with you, 'tis all."

Sothe sighed and sat down upon the ground. "He isn't able to put up with _anyone _for that matter. But still! I want to learn some skills!" Sothe crossed his arms and pouted. Tormod bit his lip to keep from laughing out; his friend currently looked like a big baby.

"Well, I don't know," the mage said instead. "Be persistent and patient, maybe he'll change his mind. Eh, after all, this is Volke, you can't very well force him to agree, uh?" Tormod chuckled at the mere idea of Sothe giving orders to the murderer.

Sothe was going to bite back some retort at his laughing comrade, but he then rubbed his chin in deep thoughts. "Hey, actually... your idea isn't half bad, Tormod."

The redhead immediately stopped chuckling. "What?" He searched Sothe's face for any hint that the thief was joking, but he didn't like what he saw. The boy's eyes were downcast and his fingers were fidgeting – he only did that when he was brewing up some twisted idea of his. Realisation dawned on Tormod. "Oh no, what have I done..."

"Come on, we have to find Volke!" Sothe jumped to his feet and grabbed Tormod's hand to drag him off to wherever he thought Volke was hiding.

The teenage mage sighed heavily. _And I thought this day started so well... I should have known it wouldn't stay that way. _

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"For the last time, no," Volke growled as soon as he saw Sothe approaching, already irritated. It was a wonder, no scratch that, it was a curse the boy managed to keep track of him wherever he was when even Ike himself had trouble finding. And he had brought his red-haired friend, to top it off. What a great way to begin the day!

Sothe only stopped walking when he was standing directly in front of Volke, and he released Tormod's hand. "I know, I'm not asking you again," the young thied grinned.

Volke's first reaction was to feel relieved for a few seconds but then his instintcs took over and he got suspicious. What could have gotten the boy to change his mind so fast? _Well, at least it proves I was right about refusing to train him, _Volke thought and couldn't help but feel disappointed to find that Sothe wasn't as hard-headed as he thought he was. _The kid doesn't know what he wants. Pity._

"Well it comes you know when to give up finally," Volke shrugged and tried to keep the bitterness out of his tone of voice.

"Nuh-uh." Sothe waved a finger, his grin widening more if that was even possible. "I said I wasn't _asking_ you!" He then crossed his arms and smiled smugly, like he just had outsmarted his senior.

Volke glared and raised one eyebrow. "So what?" he grunted unhappily. "You think you can order me around so easily? Keep dreaming, kiddo."

"I wasn't thinking about that either! Geez, man, let me finish!" Volke only glared harder. "In fact, I was thinking about... a bet."

"A bet?" the killed repeated.

"Yeah, a bet, know how it works right? Yeah I guess... If I win, you teach me how to throw knives and daggers like you. If you win, I'll never bother you with that again. Sounds right?"

Volke scratched at his rough chin, thinking over the idea. Indeed this would be a good way to get rid of the annoying boy and earn himself some peace and quiet, but he'd better not lose to Sothe. And knowing the youngster, he was expecting anything and everything. "Sounds like a deal," he finally smirked. "But it has to be something serious, not a stupid "I-can-run-there-faster-than-you!" bet."

"Just a minute." Sothe had many, many ideas, but he was looking for one that would take Volke by surprise and yet be appealing enough for the killer to agree. After a few seconds of hard thinking, it finally clicked. "I'll find you a girlfriend!" Sothe shouted triomphally.

The three men stood there in silence with Sothe grinning and Volke staring. Tormod finally couldn't let it in and fell to the ground, nearly yelling with laughter. He rolled around some more before he was able to speak again. "Man, you are soooo never going to learn knife tricks!" he guffawed.

Even Volke chuckled at this.

"Well, what say you?" Sothe growled after he gave Tormod a good kick in the guts.

"I accept," the red-clad thief said, amused. "Say, I even give you the entire week so you can fully ridiculise yourself."

"So it's okay! Yeeha!" Sothe jumped up and nearly tripped over Tormod who was still lying on the floor. "Begin sharpening your daggers, Volke, 'cause it's only a matter of hours until you have a pretty girlfriend! Come on Tormod, we have work to do!" And with that the green-haired thug ran off.

Tormod moaned as he got up and dusted himself off. He looked at Volke. "How did I get involved into this again?" the mage whined before he took off yelling at Sothe to slow down so he could catch up.

Volke chuckled to himself. He had to admit he was very curious to see what would happen. _He'll never win, _the killer thought as he inserted his pipe between his smirking teeth. _He can't win, what a pity. _Volke couldn't have told who was to be pitied in the end.


	2. Testing the Waters

_First chapter! I hope you like it! Sorry I couldn't update any sooner, I had work to do, and I'm only able to write on weekends and wednesday afternoon. Still I'll keep the story running! Enjoy. _

_First one to discover who Volke will be paired up with gets a cookie! XD_**  
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**Chapter One, Testing the Waters**

"Man, I never realized there weren't that many women here!" Sothe moaned as he ploped down on a nearby rock.

Tormod's first thought was that Sothe had gotten himself in this mess alone and didn't have to lay the blame on anyone but himself, but then he took pity of the young thief just sitting there, his face in his hands. He tried to be helpful. "Well, let's see," he began. "There is... Titania?"

"She dislikes Volke, that I can tell," Sothe sighed.

"Marcia?"

"Too hyper. Volke wouldn't stand her."

"Nephenee?"

"Too shy, he would get bored quickly."

"Ilyana then?"

"Yeah, could have worked... if she were fifteen years older. She's too skinny anyway."

Tormod sighed exasperatedly as he felt his patience wearing thin. "Well, Astrid or Lucia?" he growled.

"Astrid is maybe a little too young, but I think it would work with Lucia all right. But," he added when he saw Tormod's face lit up with hope. "I don't want to hurt Bastian. Just no."

The mage groaned. "So, in the end, our best choices are Titania, Marcia and Nephenee," he sumemd up quickly. "Since Mia and Mist are both too young and Jill is with Haar, right?"

Sothe thought over the three names. "Titania... she hates his guts, all right, but she is hard-willed and is certainly able to stand up to him, if needed... then Marcia could startle him to death with her hyperness, and Nephenee... she is shy and he is as silent as a grave, this wouldn't be undying love! This would be... undying boredom." Sothe sighed and ran his hand through his dark green hair. "Now what did I get myself into? Oh well, better start now. I think I saw Marcia not far from here, let's go ask some questions."

Tormod cocked one eyebrow. "Questions? You mean like... would you be Volke's girlfriend pretty please?"

Sothe swatted him upside the head. "Did living in the desert amongst cats make you so dense? No! We are going to see what she likes in a man and if Volke would suit her."

"Geez, you didn't have to hit so hard," the mage groaned as he rubbed his abused skull. "What now, do I have to fetch some paper and a quill to write the answers down, on top of that?"

Sothe grinned. "You got it."

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Marcia was indeed "there". She was washing her horse in the courtyard of the stronghold while her brother was taking a nap. Makalov was reclined against a tree, snoring happily.

The pegasus knight raised her head to see Sothe and Tormod nearing her. "Heya there, boys!" she waved cheerfully. "What brings you?"

"A need to know more," Tormod smirked, waggling his eyebrows.

Sothe elbowed him hard in the guts before Marcia got suspicious. "He means we have a few questions for you," he corrected quickly, grinning as he slowly crushed Tormod's foot under his own to keep him quiet minus the whimpers.

"For me?" Marcia repeated, raising one eyebrow. "What are the questions about?"

Sothe opened his mouth but he realized he couldn't blurt out that he was looking for a girlfriend for Volke. So he stayed there, mouth agape, until Tormod recovered from both the blow and the crushing and clamped his hand on the green-haired thief's shoulder. "Well, you see, Sothe here has got a problem."

"Tormod, shut it," the boy hissed through his teeth, resisting the urge to crush the mage's foot once again before he revealed anything.

"The poor boy wants to attract girls, but he hasn't got a clue about what to do!" the redhead smiled. "So we hang around and ask girls a few questions so Sothe can decide on what type of man he should be when he is older," he finished smartly.

This time Sothe had to keep himself from kissing Tormod's cheek. He settled for a goofy grin instead. "Yeah! Poor me, always trying to be nice and all but-"

"Spit your questions out, kiddo, and don't be so loud, you may just wake Makalov." Marcia motionned to the napping pink-haired sword-wielder under his tree. "And if you do wake him up when I finally managed to get some moments of peace and quiet, you won't need to know what you'll be like later because you'll be no more," she said dangerously.

Tormod and Sothe gulped. Maybe Volke wouldn't be the frightening one of the couple.

"Err, right... so first question!" Tormod cleared his throat. "Which of those two men would you choose: the all mighty paladin on his white horse or the mysterious yet handsome night wanderer who is rather unknown but who swears undying love to you?"

Marcia crossed her arms over her chest. "You sound like you want me to pick the wanderer..."

"Just choose!" Tormod growled.

"Well, I'd pick the one who loves me, I guess," she shrugged.

"Let's say they both love you, all right?"

"In that case I'd choose the one I love."

"Which one, then?" Sothe whined. "That's what the whole question is about!" Was it him, or the pink-haired woman in front of him was really dense? More than Tormod maybe! "The knight or the murderer!"

"Murderer? I thought we were talking about a night wanderer. It's not the same thing, you know," Marcia said.

Sothe realized he had slipped and tried to cover it up. "Murderer, I said it like that... it can be a thief, a spy, something mysterious or whatever." He noticed Marcia was even more confused and decided to make the question easier. "Would you rather like your boyfriend to be "cute" or "handsome"? "Faithful" or "devoted"? "Light" or "dark"?"

Marcia stared at the two teenagers in front of her in silence before she spoke up. "No, Sothe, Tormod, I'm sorry but I don't want to go out with either of you."

Sothe did a double take. "Are you kidding?" he gagged as Tormod nearly choked on his saliva. "You are, like, at least eleven years older! We aren't interested in you!"

Marcia shrugged. "With you boys, one can never be sure."

Sothe threw Tormod a glance; the boy was furiously scribbling on his sheet of paper. The thief decided to cut it short. "Right, so, would you choose one as well as the other if you were sure he loves you?"

"I guess."

"Thanks! All we needed to know! See you!" Sothe grabbed Tormod, who was still writing, by the sleeve and dragged him off. _That girl really creeps me out at times. _

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"Black or white?"

"Black," Titania answered.

"White," Nephenee muttered.

"Okay, now, day or night?" Tormod pursued.

"Day," the two women said at once.

Tormod sighed and scribbled down some more. "Please, give me one reason each."

Titania shrugged. "I don't know, at night you're supposed to sleep so besides dreaming nothing happens. Interesting things mostly happen during your waking time."

"What about you Nephenee?"

"I've always been afraid of the dark, and especially walking alone at night," the soldier admitted quietly. "The mere thought of what may be lurking in the shadows is enough to scare me."

"Really?" the two boys inquired, leaning forwards. "And would you like to be with someone who knows everything about the dark? Someone who could comfort you?"

"Yes... I guess," she nodded.

"Good! Really good indeed!" Tormod scribbled happily.

While waiting for the red-haired mage to finish, Sothe observed the two women. Titania, for once, had left her armor in her room and was wearing a simple long-sleeved cream tunic. Nephenee too had taken her blue armor off because of the heat of the summer day, but had stubbornly kept her helmet on. Sothe didn't why but she seemed to never take it off at all – at least, he never saw her without it.

_Well she is mysterious in some way, too, _the thief mused. _Maybe Volke would like her. _

After Tormod was done with writing the answers down, the boys bid the farewell and walked away. Sothe strode up to the mage and took a look at the results over his friend's shoulder. "Three girls... there isn't much choice."

Tormod nodded grimly. "Indeed, and nobody stands out either. Look, here comes Mia," he pointed out. "It won't hurt to have a fourth point of view."

"Yeah." Sothe was already sauntering over to the cheery swordmaster, closely followed by Tormod.

Mia was happily chatting with a grumbling Rhys, who was wearing plain brown pants as well as a black training shirt instead of the usual white robes. He was awkwardly carrying a sword, and didn't seem too happy about it. The purple-haired swordmaster was hanging onto his arm and kept on chattering even though Rhys was only half-listening to her.

Mia finally spotted Sothe and she waved. "Hi there! Beautiful weather, uh? Rhys and I are going to make the best of it and train in the field!" she grinned and squeezed Rhys' arm. The priest's only reply was a sigh.

"Yeah, beautiful indeed... say Mia, can you answer two or three questions?" Tormod asked.

"Sure! Ask away!" she said. "We've got the time!"

Rhys' head raised at this and he looked pleadingly at Sothe and Tormod. "Yes, please, ask a thousand questions if you like... just distract her while I-"

"You, mister, are _not _going anywhere!" Mia tugged on Rhys' arm as the priest tried to get away. The orange-haired man was forced back and sighed once again, fidgeting with his sword. "There, stay quiet. Now, what are your questions?"

"This will be quick, just say the first answer that comes to your mind. Day or night?"

"Day! Because I can see everything and I can train hard with my sword to become the best swordmaster ever, better than Zihark and Stefan put together!" she answered straight away, grinning.

"All right..." Tormod wrote the answer down, slightly creeped out. "Black or white?"

"White! Like my archrival!" Mia squeezed Rhys' arm even harder, and rather painfully judging by the priest's wince. "Clad in white, he will ride towards me and we will be the best archrivals ever! Fighting side by side and-"

"Please, Mia, you don't have to _yell _into my ear!" Rhys pleaded.

"Sorry, my rival," she smiled.

"I'm not your rival, Mia, I'm only a priest," the orange-haired man said tiredly, as if he had repeated the same sentence over and over, but Sothe knew he'd never amout to anything with Mia.

"Nuh-uh, Rhys, you are a big, grown man and you are going to prove it to me! Today is the day you are going to put up a good fight against me!"

"But... Mia!" Rhys protested. "After fifteen minutes I'm so tired I can't even lift my sword! You'll just defeat me for a hundredth time! Please can't we just go in and, I don't know, read a book or something!"

"Reading is boring."

"Well then we could chat."

"We can chat while training!"

The bickering two hadn't noticed yet, lost as they were in their argument, but Sothe and Tormod weren't there anymore.

The young mage, looking over at the so-called fighting partners, scratched Mia's name on his sheet of paper. "No," he muttered, creeped out. "Definitely no."

Sothe nodded frantically. "Mia isn't a good match, anyway, she would scare the hell out of Volke in a week. She's far too obsessed with her swords."

"And with Rhys too." The thief raised one eyebrow. "What? Oh come on, don't pretend you haven't noticed! The only reason Mia wants to _train _him is that she gets to spend more time with the guy! Let's face it, he's as clueless as he's hopeless with a weapon! This is Rhys for you."

"You mean... Mia fancies Rhys?" the green-haired teenager said, blinking.

Tormod sniggered and spoke in a quiet tone. "Yeah, she can't enough of him and his priest sexyness," he purred, waggling his eyebrows.

Sothe just began imagining Mia and Rhys in that way... He gagged and lightly punched Tormod who was smirking. "Would you shut it! Man, and I thought priests were supposed to be "pure, soul and body devoted to the Goddess! Now I won't ever be able to look at Rhys like before." Sothe took the quill from his friend's hand and scratched Mia's name once again. "Take that, you evil temptress!"

Tormod gasped and pulled the sheet to him. "Careful, brainless creature! You'll scratch the other answers too!" he hissed.

"Whatever, keep your quill ready," Sothe said as he gave the writing instrument back. "We have yet another person on our to-question list. There's someone's tastes we will need too."

Tormod cocked his head to one side.

"Whose?"

"Volke's."


	3. In his Mind

_Sorry, I just don't have enough cookies for all of you! XD Well-guessed! _

_As shown in the title, this chapter will mainly be told from Volke's POV, although not directly. Sorry if I made him a little out of character, but... this _is _a romance fic after all! Volke is fated to be OOC! _**_  
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**_Chapter Two, In his Mind_**

It was one of those few moments Volke loved.

He had wandered for an hour in the forest and had finally found a nice spot near the river. The moss actually looked quite comfortable and the tree's branches were filtering sunrays. The running water was cold, a great relief on this hot summer day, Volke thought as he plunged his hand in the river.

He took his dark cloak off and, by instinct, he took a look around before he put it on a rock and stretched out on the mossy ground. He put his hands under his head and closed his eyes, simply enjoying the peace and quiet. Volke only slept two hours per day, and he intended to make these enjoyable.

For a few minutes, the killer allowed himself to empty his mind. He focused on his breathing and his steady heartbeats, his head filled with nothing but noises of water flowing and birds chirping. Volke shifted his weight so the daggers he kept tied to his hip didn't press into his flesh; he never considered taking them off. Danger could be anywhere, after all, and Volke felt uncomfortable and helpless without his trusted knives.

It was simple, really, two hours of sleep in sunlight; but it was enough to make Volke relatively happy. On those few moments he felt good, yet some part of his heart longed to have someone to share it with. The assassin shook his head. _Sothe's bet makes me think that way, that's all. I never needed somebody other than myself, and I'm not dead, so I'll go on living that way. That, or I'm just growing old and nostalgic. _Volke sighed a little. He knew there was no way Sothe would win that bet: no girl in the mercenaries had ever had the time to take a clear look at his face. The dark-haired man was sure some didn't even know he existed.

_So what? It's not like I need them to acknowledge me, after all, _he grunted inwardly.Why did he feel that way suddenly? Being lonely never bothered him before, staying away from others' eyes never was a problem! Damn that boy and his stupid bet! Damn Sothe and his need to get Volke a life!

Said man was distracted from his train of thoughts when something landed swiftly upon his boot. Volke opened his eyes and glanced up to see a little bird perched atop his shoe, curisouly peering over at the killer. The animal was small-bodied and its feathers were dark brown; a sparrow, Volke recognized. Under normal circumstances, he would have kicked his foot and growled at the bird to go away before he made it his appetizer, but he didn't find the will nor the need to do that right now.

Instead, the assassin slowly sat up and reached out for the bird. It didn't fly away, but just hopped on the other boot. Volke was confused; weren't birds supposed to be afraid? That one sure wasn't, anyway... it was still looking at him, its little head cocked to the side. Volke then noticed it didn't have a full set of feathers and its beak was rather small. It was a youngling, which certainly explained why it showed no sign of fear.

"So you're a kid?" Volke mumbled as he reached in his pocket and found a small piece of bread, which surely had been there for days because it was hard as a rock. The man crushed it in his fist and held his hand out to the bird, palm up. The fledgling chirped once and hopped onto Volke's fingers, gratefully pecking at the crumbs. "Fell from your nest, kiddo?" Volke glanced up but there was no nest in sight.

The sparrow lightly nimbled on Volke's finger before its attention returned to the crumbs. The killer chuckled under his breath; what if the others saw him now? They all would think he had gone seriously mad, feeding little birds and singing in the forest. Mist would seize the chance and try to get him to pick flowers with her and why not make him wear a dress while they're at it! So what, what was wrong with giving a young bird a few crumbs of bread? It didn't prove Volke had a soft side, far from that, he just felt he had to help the creature. He too had been alone and defenceless as a child, though not as defenceless as the hatchling, and that was the last thing a child wanted.

Volke tried to settle his mind on other things and extended a finger to touch the bird's head. It only glanced up at him once and resumed its feast; Volke finally managed to stroke the feathers with the tip of his finger, amazed at the warmth emanating from the skin. He wondered if his own skin was that warm, but guessed he was likely to never find out since there wouldn't be anyone to tell him. _Here we go again! When am I ever going to get rid of those thoughts? Curse you, Sothe, and your cursed ideas. I should have said yes from the beginning to avoid all that. _

"I should have said yes," he voiced out loud. The sparrow looked up at him. "Don't you think, featherball?" The bird chirped as if to answer positively, and Volke found himself chuckling. He then realized how silly that scene had to seem; an assassin talking to a sparrow, and thinking the animal was answering him. "Well, never mind, just eat."

Volke was going to resume caressing the feathers when...

"Volke! Here you are at least!"

The scream frightened the bird and it took flight quickly, disappearing in the trees. The killer was surprised to feel a little saddened by the loss of the animal, and didn't even have to turn around to know who had yelled so loud. _Next time someone says I lack patience, that person's head is coming off, _Volke thought grimly.

He leaned back down and almost immediately, Sothe's grinning face came into sight. "Hey down there! Is everything all right?" the boy asked cheerfully.

"It was... then you came along," Volke mumbled, closing his eyes half-way to shield them from the sun.

"Glad to see you too! Say, we've got a few things to ask, could you spare some minutes of your beauty sleep, although you really need it?" Sothe chuckled.

"Did you just say I'm ugly?" Volke decided to humor the teenager and slowly sat up, stretching his arms. "I hope this won't take long, I admit there are other things I'd rather be doing."

"Tah ah! Just you wait, Volke! Soon enough you won't have to sleep to avoid being bored!" Sothe smiled as he plopped down next to the older man. "You'll have a lovely girl to cuddle with-" the boy ignored Volke's glare "-and plus, you'll have a smart pupil to train!"

"Oh joy, and I thought this day couldn't get any better."

"Birdie, birdie!" Tormod chanted as he jumped up to get a good view of the small sparrow perched on a branch. Volke wondered if it was the same sparrow than earlier. "Come down, birdie, come down! Come see Unky Tormy!"

Sothe turned around, clearly annoyed. "Tormod! Get your butt here and leave that bird alone!"

The red-haired mage sauntered over to them and Volke noticed he was waving a sheet of paper around. "What's this?" he asked.

"You'll know about it soon enough!" Tormod settled down next to Sothe. "So, first off, who do you like amongst the mercenaries?"

Volke growled in his throat. _Can't he just give up? Well, the sooner it's over, the better. _"Well, I didn't get to know everybody that well..."

"Volke, we're talking about which _girl _you like in the mercenaries."

The assassin sighed. "I only remember the princess' and Titania's names, others I only remember faces."

"So Titania, uh? Tell me what do you think about her?"

"What are you writing?" Volke enquired suspiciously.

"I'm the one asking questions here!" Tormod snapped. "So, what do you like about her?"

"What do I like? Oh, I simply love the way her hair flows in the breeze and her clear eyes sparkle furiously at me whenever I happen to find myself within fifty feet of Ike," Volke growled. "True, women who want to kill me really turn me on."

Tormod threw Sothe a glance, his quill hovering over the paper, as if asking if he should write it down. Sothe sighed heavily; it wasn't going to be easy, all right.

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Maybe ten minutes later, Volke walked out of the forest, very irritated. It hadn't taken long for the two boys to annoy him deeply, and he had taken the first way out. Well, in truth, he didn't know what bothered him the most: the boys, or everything they seemed to reveal; his loneliness, his lack of real life.

_I have to think about something else, or else I'll go crazy. _Volke nodded to himself and proceeded to climb up a tree. A fairly easy task for the lean assassin, and soon he was sitting on a high branch and looking at his surroundings.

The priest and the swordmaster were training again... Rhys, and if he recalled right the girl's name was Mia. The poor man was doing his best to struggle against Mia's blows, but he finally dropped his sword and fell to his knees, panting. Volke shifted his sight elsewhere; Gatrie was playing cards with Tauroneo, and losing as it seemed, the Deain soldier was certainly cheating as usual.

Then Volke saw them. General Ike and Princess Elincia. The two of them were walking hand in hand around the field, smiling as though they didn't have a care in the world. The killer tried to set his eyes elsewhere, but he wasn't able to. So he braced himself and got ready to spy on them until they disappeared from his sight.

Elincia bent down to pick up a flower just as blue as Ike's hair and balanced it on said general's ear, giggling. Ike giggled too when the crystal-haired princess gave his nose a small kiss and he wrapped his arms around her for a big bear hug.

The assassin shook his head; this was a true exemple of what some would call puppy love. It made him sick... but at the same time, he felt envious. He never got a taste of puppy love, and would likely never find out what it was like. _Not that I care or anything, _he mused absently. Some other part of his mind whispered that being alone was finally taking its toll on him but he refused to listen to it.

The couple was now nearing the tree Volke was sitting in, and he was able to catch up on their conversation. "That flower really suits you, Ike," Elincia giggled.

"It does, doesn't it? I'm seriously thinking about giving up war to begin a career as a dancer, what do you think?" The blue-haired man laughed, striking a pose.

Elincia laughed along. "Well, I don't know how it will work out, but whatever success you have I will be there to see you on stage!"

"Aww, you're so good to me, what did I ever do to deserve this?"

The princess squeezed his hand and stood on her tiptoes to lay a gentle kiss upon his smiling lips. "Because I love you, silly."

"I love you too, Eli." Ike returned the kiss and then they got too far for Volke to hear the rest.

Just... why did he feel so jealous? Why did he suddenly want someone by his side too? And why the hell did he feel that way at all! He had had his own share of women after all!

_Yeah, sure, if you're talking about flings and one-night stand, _the little nagging voice reminded him. _Nobody ever wanted to stay by your side for longer than one evening, the only thing you ever got was sex, never love. _

"Shut it," Volke growled. "I don't need love, I'll live my whole life without it."

_Just keep on pretending. _

The assassin shook his head and decided it was time to move on... or at least, to move around. He grabbed the branch he was sitting on and let himself down onto a lower one. He proceeded to get down the tree that way without making a single sound. When he jumped to the ground, however, he caught sight of something blue and green right beneath him. Volke was going to collide with it, but his quick reflexes kicked in and he grabbed onto a low branch. It bent dangerously from his weight, but the man was able to change the course of his fall. He landed brutally on his feet next to whatever was standing there.

Or rather, whoever. The girl jumped up for about two feet into the air and turned around, raising her spear, pointing it at him. "I didn't mean to scare you," he quickly said before she decided impaling him was a good idea.

The helmeted head tilted to one side as the girl relaxed. "Oh... sorry... I just thought t'was some enemy hidin'," she mumbled as a way to apologize.

"I'm no enemy." He noticed the girl's voice had a slight accent but she was obviously trying to hide it. Volke vaguely remembered seeing her on battlefield, but he couldn't quite make out her name. Nipha? Nephir?

"You are the murderer?" the young woman asked very shyly, her fingers nervously running up and down her iron spear. Her eyes were downcast although Volke could tell she was trying not to be intimidated. Did she fear him?

"Murdered I am, but I mean you no harm," the man said to get her to relax. Why he cared enough to do so, however, was beyond him.

The woman nodded a little but kept her eyes glued to the ground. Volke wanted to ask what she was afraid of, but he changed his mind when he realized it was pretty obvious. The assassin was instead thinking hard to remember her name, in case it would reassure her about his intentions. Naphie? Naphene? Wait, wasn't it-

"Nephenee!"

Both killer and halberder whirled around when they heard the screech.

Calill really was a sight to see as she was doing her best to run up to them while holding her skirts, her usually neatly-kept blond hair sticking up everywhere. The sage finally stopped her mad run next to Nephenee, panting. "Where on Tellius were you!" Calill exhaled. "I searched all over the stronghold for you!"

"Ah... sorry Calill, I was only taking a walk," Nephenee apologized quietly.

"Well, you better-" The blond sage then seemed to take notice of Volke's presence. "Never mind that. So, what were you chatting about with Mr. Volke here?" The assassin didn't like the look Calill gave him; it meant she was trying to get her little nose into someone else's business.

Nephenee tensed up and Volke could have sworn he saw her blush under her helmet. "We-we weren't exactly chattin'!" she stuttered, her accent coming back once again.

"It's true, and I was taking my leave." The red-clad man nodded politely. "If you will excuse me, Nephenee, until later." He then walked away.

Calill rubbed her chin with a manicured finger, staring off at him. "My, my, our dear Volke growing sociable? Who would have thought?" She expected Nephenee to add something, but when she only listened to silence, the sage turned to her friend to find her unmoving, her eyes staring off into space. "Nephenee? Are you feeling well?"

Once again the halberder kept silent. Calill smirked in a devious way as her crazed mind brewed up a plan. "Nephenee? You know, you are doing yourself emotional harm, staring at Volke's rear like that."

Calill didn't have to wait long. Nephenee started and blushed several dark shades of red, her hand gripping her spear so tight the sage was sure it would break in two. "I-I'm not!" she half-shouted, half-stammered. "I-I didn't even know his name! He fell from the tree, and I've already heard 'bout him, 'course, but I never got see his face so I'm just wonderin'!"

The accent and bad grammar made Calill wince inwardly, but outside she was still smirking. "Were it false, you wouln't try to deny it so much!"

Nephenee groaned and angrily stomped away from the grinning sage, still tighly clutching her spear in her hand and pushing her helmet down to hide her blush.

Calill crossed her arms and sighed. The girl just _wouldn't _admit some men found her pretty, beautiful even, and she was way too shy to engage in any sort of relationship. Even months after Nephenee had joined the mercenaries, she refused to take off her helmet, or speak with Calill about which man she found attractive or not. Although trained, she was shy, too shy.

"How will I ever remedy that?" the sage sighed.

"Aw man, where did he go now?"

Calill turned around curiously to see Sothe and Tormod walking out of the forest, busily searching for something, or someone. "If you're looking for Volke, he went that way," Calill pointed out.

"Hey thanks!" Tormod smiled.

"Come on, Tormod, we don't have all the time in the world to find Volke his girlfriend!" Sothe urged him, grabbing the young mage's sleeve.

_Girlfriend? _The nosy part of Calill's mind sprung awake and she caught the two boys before they took off. "Wait! Did you say girlfriend?" she asked.

"Yeah, Sothe made a bet with Volke," Tormod filled in quickly. "He has to find a girlfriend for him in one week, and that was yesterday! We don't have much time left."

Calill rubbed her chin in thoughts. It was crazy, yet... yet she felt it could work. With a little help from Sothe, Tormod and herself, of course.

"Boys... I think we have a deal."


	4. What they Need

_Onward, to more and more of Volke and Nephenee's out-of-characterness! (if that's even a word) **  
**_

_**Chapter Three, What they Need**_

" … is just a little help from us!" Calill grinned.

Tormod yawned openly and fought the urge to fall asleep. "Please kindly remind me... why did you wake me up at six already?" he groaned. He leaned against Sothe for support, but the green-haired teenager had to be at least as tired as he was.

Calill lightly swatted his head. "Silly boy... We have to lend Love a hand!" she beamed.

"Yeah... well it'll have to be a _big _hand," Tormod yawned again. He rubbed his eyes as he tried to keep on speaking through his yawn. "With Nephenee being the shyest person on this side of Tellius and Volke being Volke, it would take a miracle for them to be together." He took a step back when he received dirty looks from both Sothe and Calill. "I'm only stating the truth!"

Sothe plopped down on the ground and buried his head in his hands, moaning. "And I swore I would never bother him with giving me lessons! What have I done? I'll never learn to throw daggers like him."

"Stop moping around, Sothe," Calill tssked. "Let's just sum up what we need to do with each of them and see what can be done."

"Fine, first we need a miracle... don't look at me like _that_, it's true!" Tormod said.

"Well, about Nephenee..." Sothe tapped his finger to his lips. "She has to have more self assurance... I mean, she doesn't even realize some men _will _look at her and notice how pretty she is! Other than that, it's all right."

"And we'd have to teach Volke some manners too," the red-haired mage added. "Well, the basics at least. We can't have him act rude in front of her or anything."

Calill was writing something down on a sheet of paper. _What is it with mages and writing things? _Sothe thought. Still he waited patiently until she was done. "I can take care of Nephenee, this won't be a problem," the blond sage announced. "And I think we have got the perfect teacher for Volke."

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"No, no, NO! Volke, when a lady walks by and offers you her greetings, you _cannot _just thrust your hands in your pockets and grumble! Be a gentleman!" Bastian groaned.

"Leave me alone, Bastian, can't you just have a cup of tea anywhere but here?" Volke growled angrily. The wind sage had been all over him for three hours, without giving any reason although the red-clad man had his own little idea. At first he had been amused, but when he saw the count wasn't leaving anytime soon, he got irritated.

"A little bird perched itself upon my shoulder and chirped some very interesting things, such as your lack of manners." Bastian winced as if the mere thought of it disgusted him. "I cannot accept it. Assassin and black-hearted you may be as much as you want, but it won't be said someone in my company was left uneducated!"

Volke crossed his arms. "I don't give a damn," he hissed.

"Language!" Bastian chided, waving his finger. "This is no way to talk to a woman!"

"You are no damned woman, Bastian, and I'm no damned gentleman."

Bastian poked Volke's chest with one finger. "That's exactly why I am here. This is what I am here to change." He crossed his arm to emphasize his point.

"You want to be a woman?" the assassin repeated.

The sage's face fell. "No, you simple-minded ape! I will teach you how to act gentlemanly, even if that is the last thing I do!"

"Which, now that you mention it, will be!" Volke growled as he played with one of his daggers. A annoying crowd had begun to gather around the two men sometime earlier, and amused chuckles could be heard from time to time. It was slowly getting under Volke's skin, and he had to fight with his will to keep from chopping a few heads off. "Get lost, Bastian."

The sage was going to add something when somebody was heard running and shouting. Soon, Boyd neared the crowd and stopped to catch his breath, bent up and his hands on his knees. "Commander Ike... sends me," the warrior panted. "We are... under attack."

"What?" Oscar jumped. "But Crimea and Deain are at peace now!"

Boyd shook his head and took a big breath. "Those guys are Ashnard's followers, they are willing to fight to death to avenge their leader," the green-haired man explained. "North up, everybody comes. There's many a soldier's butt to kick."

From this moment on, time seemed to speed by. Volke was running ahead of the group, his trusted daggers in hand, and was the first one to reach the battlefield. Boyd hadn't lied, there were many of them, and that wasn't all. There were wyvern lords as well as swordmasters, mages, black-armored knights and, of course, many soldiers. So many different battle skills, but the mercenaries were used to it.

A sage stepped forward, he had to be their leader. He had dark orange hair and eyes to match, and Volke's excellent sight allowed him to see three tomes tied to his belt: Bolganone, Thoron and Tornado. _So he's mastered the trinity... maybe this fight will prove to be interesting, after all_, Volke mused.

The orange-haired man spoke up. "Whoever the leader of that ridiculous army is, may he step forward and show himself!"

Ike obediantly stepped forward to stand in front of his mercenaries, his hands on the hilt of his sword which tip was on the ground before him. "My name is Ike, Commander of the Greil's mercenaries," he stated calmly. "Name your terms and bloodshed shall be avoided."

"Terms! Ah!" the sage laughed, and a roar of laughter elevated from the army behind him. "Our only terms are your death! Death to all of you! Scatter everyone!" Right on cue, the sage's group split up and charged. "For Ashnard and Deain!" the man roared.

"Well, that was quick," Gatrie said as he adjusted his helmet and readied his spear.

Ike sighed. "Let's do this quickly, guys," he said quietly as he raised his sword and strode forward.

Soren nodded and took off with Ilyana toward the wyvern lords, and Titania followed Oscar who headed for the fighters and warriors. As always, Volke observed what the mercenaries were doing so he could decide what his next course of action should be. He usually took care of unattended enemies or finished some off.

The nearest mercenary was Nephenee. The blue-armored halberdier was fighting off a knight on his horse, and she was doing fairly well. She easily dodged the horseman's blows or blocked them with her shield, and Volke couldn't help but notice the way she moved; swift, smooth, deadly. Beautiful. _Wait this is a battle! Why am I thinking about _that _of all things! _The assassin violently shook his head to clear his mind but his stare remained on Nephenee.

_Fortunately _his stare remained on Nephenee. Otherwise he wouldn't have spotted the fighter running up to the young woman, ready to swing his axe between her shoulderblades. Volke sprang forward, his daggers ready, and tore open the man's throat before he got within five feet of Nephenee. The fighter fell at the halberdier's feet just as she turned around; surprised, she only had time to glance at Volke before another enemy caught her attention and she had to look away.

The killer smirked. She had seen him. He wondered what could get her to look at him again, although he didn't really know why he needed to catch her attention – showing off wasn't really his thing. Without thinking first he strode up to the nearest enemy he could see, and who ended up being a wyvern lord.

Volke easily jumped past the javelin thrown at him and watched as the wyvern lord fumbled for his lance, still smirking. As the killer approached, however, the wyvern stood tall on its rear legs and roared, flapping its wings at him to throw him off balance. The brown-haired man dodged the first blow, but then the second wing's claws nicked his shoulder and he allowed a slight wince to settle on his features. Clutching his wound, Volke readied his dagger; a normal man would have backed away, but it was said he was no normal man. He charged.

When the rider thrust his lance forward, Volke grabbed it with his bloody hand and used it to climb onto the dragon. With a quick slash of his dagger, the wyvern lord was dead and slipped down to the ground, lifeless. The assassin stood proudly on the wyvern, the slash at his shoulder all but forgotten when he crossed Nephenee's impressed gaze. She had probably never seen a man slay a wyvern lord so easily before, but he couldn't blame her: that was actually the first time he did so.

Volke was blown out of his daydreaming when the wyvern twisted its neck to bite his foreleg and sunk its fangs into it. The assassin muffled a yelp and slashed at the creature's neck with his daggers, until the head actually came off and the massive body slumped to the ground taking Volke along. The man slowly twisted his leg out of the dragon's jaws and got up clumsily, looking around.

The sage's army was being destroyed while the mercenaries suffered no loss whatsoever. There only remained a few knights, two swordmasters and the orange-haired sage; scratch that, only one swordmaster, thanks to Haar and his Tomahawk. Boyd sprinted from the other way and made quick work of one knight, well breaking his silver axe while he did so, as Shinon and Rolf took care of the remaining swordmaster. In a blur of seconds, the sage stood alone on the battlefield, Bolganone in hand.

"Hail to the King!" the man shouted, not even trying to fire his spell for he knew he was already dead.

Ike stepped up to him. "I have to agree with you, except for one single thing: we know no King, we have a Queen, so hail to the Queen." The blue-haired general then delivered a blow to the sage's nape that killed him instantly and painlessly. "Farewell."

Volke put his daggers away the moment the sage's body hit the ground. _That had to be the shortest battle ever, these men attacked out of desperation and nothing else. I better get back to the stronghold to take care of this, _he thought as his hand went to his bleeding shoulder. He had never needed a healer's help to take care of his wounds, although Mist often tried to heal him by force. Well, he had to admit the girl's healing abilities had been rather useful that time when an axefighter had split Volke's skull open, but today was different.

The rogue man turned around and ended up nose to nose with Nephenee. Both stepped back from each other awkwardly, Nephenee's cheeks turning pink as Volke set his jaws to keep from screaming his pain out. That creature really did a number on his leg.

"I... I wanted to thank you," Nephenee finally said quietly, her fingers fidgeting nervously with her armor plate. "For saving me, earlier."

"It was no problem, part of my job." Volke's gaze ran up and down Nephenee's body, checking her over for any injury – and he hoped only that. While he thought she was pleasurable to look at, it just seemed out of place. His amber eyes once again travelled up and stared into her soft blue pools. "Except for that bruise on your cheek, I can see that you are not injured," he said.

The young woman nodded, feeling uneasy under the killer's scrutinity. Well, uneasy wasn't the exact word, but she had a strange feeling in her guts. No man had ever looked at her like that, and although it was new she didn't find it all that bad. Of course, Nephenee wouldn't say it to Volke, and her blush only worsened. She hoped her helmet hid it, but given the thief's curious look it didn't.

"That bruise looks really bad," he stated, and Nephenee felt relieved. Yes, that was it, let him think it was a bruise. More relaxed now, she took her time to inspect his body like he did her... why did she feel she had the right to? However, it didn't take her all that long to notice the bleeding gash at his shoulder and his torn-up leg.

"You're injuried," she whispered, worried.

"Part of my job too." He wiped some of the blood away like it were some annoying fly. "I'm used to it."

"Oh." Nephenee was going to offer her help, as she knew how to clean and take care of injuries thanks to her mother, but she wasn't able to voice it. She was too shy to even think about seeing Volke shirtless, let alone see it for real.

"I better get going," the man said as he glanced at the approaching mercenaries. He never liked to be in a crowd, plus Rhys and Mist were certainly going to harass him about his wounds. "Talk later." And he was gone.

Nephenee just stared off after him, a fleeting smile appearing on her lips. "Talk later," she returned.

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_I hate wyverns, I hate wyverns, I hate wyverns..._

Volke thought that sentence over and over, repeating it like a mantra as he worked on his leg wound. The claws hadn't damaged his shoulder all that much, a simple gash, but his leg... that was another story. The wyvern must have been old because most of its smallest fangs, some the size of the assassin's nail, had gotten stuck in the wound when he had pulled away, along with other fragments of whatever it had eaten and Volke didn't really care.

Now his problem was to get them all out; he had to, otherwise the wound would get infected and he would probably lose it – his leg, and his sanity.

Volke gathered his will and adjusted his position on the ground, bending once again over his wound. He spotted another tooth and painfully inserted the tip of his dagger under it, popping it out after some struggle to stay unmoving. As soon as the foreign object was out, however, the thief exhaled heavily and slammed his fist against the trunk of the tree which he was leaning back on.

_I hate wyverns, I hate wyverns... _

Fresh blood poured out, and for the first time Volke cursed the sharpness of his daggers. Night had already fallen, and if he had to clean up blood each time he worked a tooth out, it would take the entire night. Not that he minded, he never slept at night, but still there were better things he would rather be doing.

Volke picked up the bloody rag he used to clean the wound and dabbed at the blood, wincing whenever the rough cloth brushed against his raw flesh. He set it aside and took hold of his dagger, aiming for another small fang. But this time it refused to come out; Volke twisted the blade around a little to dislodge the object, but he missed and felt the tip of the knife hit something hard. His bone, certainly. The man growled to mask a moan of pain and pushed his urge to just tear through the flesh away, focusing instead on his racing heart.

Busy as he was, Volke never noticed he was being watched. In the dark, Nephenee would hardly make out the thief's position, but she was perfectly able to hear his grunts of pain and his growls. She didn't know why she felt guilty; she felt like she had a debt to repay him because he had saved her life, and she was willing to help him, but at the same time she was too shy to even bring herself to actually do it. Walk up to him, talk to him, help him.

But, the young woman told herself resolutely as she hugged the first aid kit she had brought along to her chest a bit more, for once she would forget her shyness. She would forget who he was, and even who she was, and just help the man who had put his life on the line to save hers.

Nephenee walked towards Volke, and as expected when she was only a few feet away from him she saw him sit up straight. "Don't worry, it's me Nephenee," she called out softly, not wanting him to think she was an enemy.

Volke acknowledged her presence and relaxed. "Nephenee," he nodded politely. "Aren't you supposed to be asleep?" The young woman noticed his voice was pain-filled although he did a good job at hiding it.

"I am... but I kept thinking about you and I wasn't able to sleep." Nephenee quickly realized it sounded weird and her cheeks reddened fiercely – fortunately, darkness prevented Volke from seeing it. "I mean, I was worried about you and your injury, so I wanted to check up on you, yes, that's all, just wanted to check up on you," her voice trailed off.

Volke was left speechless. Somebody, a girl on top of that, worrying about his welfare? This was unheard of. "I'm fine," he finally said.

"I heard you grunting," Nephenee pointed out.

"I said I was fine, I never said it was painless." Crap. It had slipped out.

"Let me see." Light from the moon allowed Volke to see Nephenee kneel by his leg. He was about to protest, to say that he could take care of himself alone, but that was before the young woman laid her hand upon his knee to take a closer look. Her palm was warm on his skin and Volke relished the feeling, so different from the cold night's bite. As Nephenee inspected the wound as well as she could, the killer's brain registered one detail; she wasn't wearing her helmet that night. But in the dark, he wasn't able to see anything more than a torrent of hair illuminated by the moon.

Volke nearly gave in and reached out to brush the silky emerald strands, but she would wonder what he was doing. Moreover, he didn't want to get blood in her hair, and his hands were covered in the red liquid.

"It looks bad," Nephenee stated, her shy nature a bit overwhelmed by the sight of the blood gash. "You must be in great pain," she added under her breath.

"Nothing I can't handle," the man assured, but the halberdier didn't know which of her comments he was referring to.

Nephenee nodded nonetheless and opened the first aid kit. She fumbled around and finally grabbed what she had been looking for: small tweezers. "Let me take care of what is left," the young woman instructed as she worked up the courage to lay a hand flat on Volke's chest and gently push him backwards until he was leaning against the tree.

"I can do it myself," he argued.

"Please, you saved my life, this is the least I can do to thank you." Her hand lingered on his torso, right over his heart, but she wasn't aware of it. Volke, however, already was and was even ready to refuse once again just so she would insist and her hand would stay there. But he decided against it.

"Well it can't hurt to try," the wounded man nodded.

Nephenee beamed, but then she realized where her hand was and she quickly pulled it away – to Volke's disappointment. But it was soon forgotten as she sat between his legs and placed his wounded one in her lap. The red-clad man knew Nephenee had done this to get a better view of the gash but still his heart raced. He had not had someone this close to him in a long time, not only physically but mentally as well, that was the first time somebody was willing to help him.

Volke stopped having those thoughts when a slight pang of pain shot up his leg, but as quickly as it had come it was gone. Nephenee looked up at him, her tweezers squeezing a small rock. "Did it hurt?" she asked, her shyness comng back a bit.

"Not nearly half as much as before," the assassin said and noticed his wound wasn't bleeding all that much from pulling the rock out.

Nephenee nodded and resumed cleaning the wound. Freed from pain, Volke took his time to observe the young woman right in front of him. Thanks to moonlight, he could make out the shape of her face: lovely little nose, elegant and easily-blushable cheeks, smooth and enticing lips. Why was he using those adjectives? They sounded so foreign to him, but he could think of no other words as he watched her. What bothered him more was that, at the moment, his only desire was to see her features.

Why did he feel so attracted? He barely even knew her, sure they had fought in the same army for almost two years now, but what did he know about her? Next to nothing, really, except maybe that she was shy and a good fighter. And she probably didn't know anything about him either, although he couldn't blame her on that.

Volke didn't notice he was squirming a little while thinking, his mind no longer here against a tree, but Nephenee feared she would hurt him if he moved. So she pressed her hand against his thigh to make him sit still; the sudden, near intimate contact had the desired effect and the assassin froze instantly. Nephenee was still focused on the wound, so her move had been unconscious, and Volke thought it would go no farther if he kept unmoving. But then Nephenee's fingers absently began running up to his knee...

The young woman mistook Volke's groan for one of pain and stopped. "Sorry, I wasn't aware I was hurting you," she apologized quietly but worriedly.

"It is nothing," the brown-haired thief rasped, embarassed for the first time in years. _Ashera's bones, what is happening to me... _

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"Are you seeing what I'm seeing, or am I seeing things?"

"Well, I'm seeing things for my part, but I think you are seeing them too."

A slap upside the head. "You are just too smart, Tormod."

"I've been told so. So what shall be our next course of action, captain?"


	5. A Small Nudge

_Sorry it took a little longer than planned, I couldn't log in. Beware! Volke is really OOC now! I don't know about Nephenee, though. _**_  
_**

**_Chapter Four, A Small Nudge_**

Volke really didn't know what had happened. He turned to stare off into space, careful of Nephenee's head pillowed on his shoulder. Last night replayed in his mind.

To anyone other than the two of them, that last sentence would sound suspicious, but Volke knew nothing had taken place – nothing like that, at least. After she was done cleaning and treating the wound, which in itself had taken about half an hour, Nephenee just sat there, nervous. After a few seconds, she had admitted that she didn't want to go back because Calill was acting very strange. Volke had been tempted to answer: "You mean, more than usual?" but he simply nodded and told her she didn't bother him. A few minutes of uncomfortable silence followed, until Nephenee worked up the courage to talk. For once, the assassin didn't let her do all the talking and chatted back, having his first real discussion in a long time. The young woman had moved to sit beside him and had told him about that time when her younger brother had brought a baby wyvern home and how her sister had thought it wanted to eat her.

"How many siblings do you have?" Volke had asked, confused.

"Well, I have one older sister, her name is Sybill, and I have one younger sister as well, Martha," Nephenee counted. "Then there is my little brother, Karl, he is the youngest of the family. He's twelve."

"Three girls and one boy," the thief nodded. "Quite the big family."

"And quite the handful too, but I love them." Love. He had never experienced it nor did he ever feel it, that was the reason the word seemed to strange to him, but Volke thought he could associate it with Nephenee. He didn't exactly _love _her, he didn't think so, but he had come to like her. Wasn't _liking _supposed to come before _loving_? Who knew. He was never taught those things, after all. "Do you have any sibling?"

The question triggered bad memories into Volke's brain, but nevertheless his tone was perfectly emotionless as he answered. "I don't know." It was a lie, a complete lie. He had a twin sister, but he knew fairly well what had happened to her. Even with Nephenee, he didn't feel like talking about it.

And Nephenee seemed to notice he didn't want to tell her about it, so she didn't press him and instead talked about something else. And so they talked, getting to know more of each other – well Volke did at least – until the red-clad man could hear her no more and a weight fell upon his shoulder. There she was, asleep.

And there he was, now, still fully awake and in the same position, as he caught sight of the sky being painted a lighter shade of dark blue. Dawn was approaching and the sun would rise soon. As if on cue, there was some stirring against Volke's shoulder; Nephenee nuzzled it as she would do a pillow, and when she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw were his amber ones.

The young woman yelped and sat up straight. "I'm sorry!" she stammered as the assassin groaned inwardly at the loss of warmth. "I didn't mean to fall asleep on you, I didn't know it was that late!"

"It's all right, don't sound like I'm going to kill you," Volke said calmly, even though his own words sounded strange to his ears. "By the way, thanks for the leg." He patted the bandaged wound and gave a genuine smile – well he hoped it was.

Nephenee blushed slightly, from her head on his shoulder or his comment, he didn't know, but the brown-haired man had come to consider it cute. The dirty part of his brain – and it was bigger than one would think – was wondering what else he could do to make her blush like that. He wouldn't normally think about it, but he had to be cut some slack; he had just spent the night with a pretty young woman leaning against him, and he had been unable to do anything. This was beyond temptation for his rogue instinct.

But Volke had perfect control over himself, so he was able to master his body's urges, were they hunger, thirst, or even sexual frustration. Not that he felt that way toward Nephenee, of course, but it worried Volke that he needed to be reminded of it. Surely... he didn't feel that way toward Nephenee? Was his mind playing tricks?

Nephenee turned and noticed the sun was going to settle soon. "Goddess!" she whispered when she realized she had left her helmet in her room. Her shy nature came back full force upon thinking that Volke could see her face. "Um... I... I must go back!" Nephenee said out loud, never turning back to face the assassin.

"As you wish," Volke said, half-confused half-disappointed.

"Later!" With that the halberdier ran as fast as she could to the barracks, hoping nobody was up yet and praying to whatever god there was that Volke hadn't see her face. It was bad enough that she had slept on his shoulder... _Aahhh, I slept on him! What must he think of me now? That I am desperate, certainly. Not that he'd be wrong... Aaah what am _I _thinking! _

Just as Nephenee ran into her room, closing the door behind her, two heads popped out from the corner of the barracks.

"She just came back? Man, what happened that night?" Tormod joked.

"Knowing Volke and her... nothing," Sothe sighed, shaking his head. "I'm nowhere near getting any lesson."

"Don't talk like that! You have me, anything can happen!" The green-haired thief groaned and was going to tell Tormod just how big a help he was actually being, but he felt something being pressed into his hands. "Here, take this!"

Sothe looked down to see what he was being handed; some old-looking sling. "You think I can rock-throw them into starting a relationship? My poor friend, you definitely are hopeless."

"Shut up and listen to your "poor friend"'s advice, for once!" the mage grinned cheerfully. "I already told Calill about it and she said we had to give it a try. Now I take care of Nephenee, you just go up to Volke and..."

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_It's not lust, _Volke concluded after three good hours of hard thinking. _It could be love, for all I know. I fear I'm clueless when it comes to those things, and I probably wouldn't recognize love if it came and kicked me. _He thought about seeking advice but he dismissed the idea as soon as it crossed his mind; he just couldn't imagine himself asking Ike how it felt like to be in love, or anyone else for that matter. He would just have to figure it out on his own, as always.

Volke knew loving someone involved being nice and spending time with one another. He also was aware of most of the things lovers tend to do from watching the others: hugs, kisses and all that stuff. The assassin usually was disgusted by those things, but now the prospect didn't sound so bad at all. So many people did it, so why... why not?

_I really lost it that time, _he told himself, shaking his head. _All right, maybe I like her... maybe I _like _her too... but I'm an assassin, I'm fated to be alone until the day I die, and even after that. Plus, she must hate the killer I am, who doesn't after all? Even if I didn't choose this life, there's no coming back now. _

Volke shook his head once again to clear his mind from the painful memories. Now was not the time to dwell on it, he decided as his hand encountered a piece of wood on the ground. He grabbed it and unseathed his dagger. _I wonder if I still know how to carve wood, _he idly thought as he began his work, happy to finally find something to focus on.

Unfortunately, a young voice rang out, breaking the morning silence. "Oh Volke! What are you doing?"

"Picking flowers, what does it look like?" he answered at once as the annoying boy got closer.

"Well you sure look like you're having the time of your life!" Sothe almost sang. "Say Volke! I bet you can't catch me!"

The assassin, although the exclamation had surprised him, remained unmoving and just kept on carving his piece of wood, not even bothering to look up at the teenager. "Sure. You win."

"Come on Volke, you are no fun!" the young thief whined.

"Whoever said I was is a liar, and a blind one at that. Do you really think I'll run around like a complete fool only because you ask me to? Dream on, kid."

Sothe tried to anger the assassin. "Ah! You are just afraid of losing to a kid, aren't you?"

"Sure I am. Run ahead, I'll catch up later, unless I change my mind or I forget."

Sothe knew that Volke wasn't going to follow him; fortunately, Tormod had thought about it. The green-haired teenager slipped the sling out of his pocket and kept it hidden behind his back. "Oh well... I guess that leaves no choice then." He turned around and stepped away, making it look like he was leaving Volke alone, but when he was several feet away he swirled around and fired.

The rock made a wizzing sound as it cut through the air to hit Volke's cheek sharply and a bit painfully. The assassin hissed, surprised, as he looked up at Sothe.

"Bet you can't catch me!" the boy repeated as he prepared to take off.

"Why you little..." Volke finally lunged forward, his wound, Nephenee, his thoughts all but forgotten. All that mattered now was to make that damned boy eat his tongue and maybe tie him to a tree an entire day. Yes, that would be great.

Sothe completely flew off into the forest, laughing his head off as he jumped to avoid trees. He knew Volke was only feet behind, giving chase, and that amused him. _All is going according to our plan... Behold, Tormod, here I come! _

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"Aww where did it go?" Tormod thought out loud as he walked on in the woods, his hand grasping Nephenee's and pulling her along. "I swear it was right here!"

"Maybe you were wrong, and it wasn't a fawn," the young woman suggested.

"My eyes never fail me! It was a fawn, and a cute one... Come out, little baby, come out to Unky Tormy!" Nephenee thought the boy would most likely scare the animal off, shouting like that. It seemed he was making as much noise as he could on purpose. "We just have to look around a bit."

"Whatever you say, Tormod."

The boy nodded then sneezed loudly enough to empty this side of the woods. _If Sothe didn't hear me after _that, _I'm buying the man a new set of ears, _he chuckled inwardly.

"What did you say?" Nephenee asked.

"Uuh nothing!" Did he say that out loud? How was he going to explain? "I was just... well I just... err..."

As if on cue, some chuffling was heard south. It sounded like someone was running and crunching the leaves on the ground. A few seconds later, Sothe sprang from behind a tree, Volke closing in quickly after. Upon seeing Tormod the young thief stopped brutally and gasped, trying not to laugh out.

The red-haired mage did his best to look menacing and put his hand on his hips. "You!" he yelled. "You little brat! Just what did you steal my sling for? Wait until I can get my hand on you!" Tormod didn't wait for anyone to register what had happened and took off after Sothe, who had turned heels and was running for his life once again.

Both boys sped by Volke, who was brought to a sudden stop and turned to watch them scamper off into the woods, with Sothe laughing his head off and Tormod growling and shouting threats. Should he run after Sothe as well? Why did he do so in the first place?

Nephenee just blinked as she stared at the running, and now disappearing, boys. "They are... special." She then took a look around and realized she was in the middle of the woods, and she had no idea how she was going to get out. The young woman didn't even know which way she had taken to end up here to begin with. "Dang it."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Volke nodded. Nephenee jumped a little; she had almost forgotten the killer was here as well. "I am meant to startle you, it seems."

"No, it's all right," she smiled nervously. "It's just that I... I don't know where we are at all."

Volke looked around for a few seconds, and he shrugged. "I have to admit, neither do I," he said casually as his brown eyes ran over the low branches and the bushes. He realized his mistake when Nephenee paled and he cursed himself to have scared her – but why did he care suddenly? "It doesn't mean we are lost, I can get us out of here." _Us? Now _where _did that word come from? Me, myself and I, nobody else! _

Nephenee's curious voice brought Volke out of his mental bickering. "How?"

"Just look." The red-clad man walked up to a tree and grabbed the lowest branch he could find with both hands. He pulled himself up, minding his wound, until he was standing on the branch and ready to climb higher. "See? Even easier than stealing from a kid."

"Be careful not to fall," she said nervously, her green eyes on him.

Volke almost smiled. Almost. He was beginning to like having someone worrying over him, but a little voice in the back of his mind whispered that she didn't have to be worried and that he should voice it. "Don't worry, I knew how to climb before I learned to talk," he told her, and for once it wasn't a lie.

Nephenee nodded but she still kept her eyes upon him as he easily climbed his way up to the top. Even with his wound, he moved with what she could only describe as feline grace and if the halberdier squinted a bit, she could see the powerful muscles of his shoulders and thighs tense up under his clothes with each pull upwards. Wait, why would she be squinting? Nephenee adverted her eyes and blushed a little; was she that desperate that she was actually considering the first man she was alone with? Volke was very handsome, of course, but that alone was no reason!

Luckily, his voice kept her from following her trail of thoughts. "If we make our way north, we will be out of the woods before anyone notices we are gone," Volke informed. "We will eventually have to cut our way there so we don't get lost, but that's not impossible." He climbed down and landed swiftly in front of her. "Is that all right?"

"Perfect," Nephenee said, still staring dreamily at him. She only seemed to realize what she was doing when the assassin raised one eyebrow. "I-I mean it's perfect! Let's make out way north!" she stammered lamely.

Volke, however, seemed to buy it. "Umm... this way." He turned and began walking. _Why was she staring at me like that? Did I say something I shouldn't have? And why do the hell I care? I'm getting her out of this mess, she should be thanking me, not creeping me out! Still... that look in her eyes... _

Nephenee caught up with him with a few strides and walked in silence by his side, deep in thoughts. _Did he notice I was staring? Of course he did, what am I thinking, I was right in front of him! Still... he _is _handsome... _Nephenee mastered her blush for once and risked a glance from the corner of her eye at him. His soft-looking brown hair was held in place by the same red band he always wore, but his face wasn't hidden by his scarf for once. Besides his chin that bore a light stubble, his cheeks looked clean and freshly-washed. You could be an assassin and take care of yourself after all.

Yes, definitely handsome. Nephenee's eyes trailed down to rest upon his hands. They weren't gloved, and the young woman took her time to detail the rough knuckles and calloused fingers. There was a scar on the back of his left hand; it disappeared under his sleeve, and Nephenee could only guess it extended along his forearm.

Then the blue-armored soldier wondered of the rest of his body was. Volke looked lean; he wasn't as muscular as Gatrie, far from it, but Nephenee doubted there was so much as ten grams of fat on him at all. The assassin's body probably was the mirror of the life he had led: taunt, tough and badly-scarred. But she had never actually seen it. Nobody had.

The young woman was brought out of her daydreaming when Volke stopped walking suddenly. Nephenee turned her head and noticed they were standing in front of a massive gathering of flat-leaved bushes. "Dang, I can't cut through all that," the man muttered.

Nephenee shrugged. "Let's just bypass it," she suggested.

The killer shook his head. "Going around could make us lose track of the path, and you don't want to know what's lurking deeper into the woods." He sighed. _I have no other choice... damn you, Bastian, damn you and your so-called lessons. _Volke got down onto one knee, his back to Nephenee. "Come up."

"What?" she stammered. "No! You are wounded, and if you can walk through it then so will I!"

The red-clad man raised a hand to shut her up. "In case you haven't noticed, this is poison ivy." He motionned to the bushes with his hand. "I'm wearing pants, so it shouldn't be a problem. You, on the other hand-" and then Volke motionned to Nephenee's exposed legs, and the halberdier blushed horribly "-are going to live some very unpleasant days if you wander through there like that. Now hop on."

Relunctantly, Nephenee walked nearer. She almost tripped on her own feet but she caught herself and bent down to wrap her arms around the man's neck. Volke then got up easily and used his arms as support for her legs. Nephenee felt like her entire body was on fire, and she wondered if Volke could feel it through their clothes, just like she could feel the taunt muscles of his shoulderblades move with every step, or the pleasant roughness of his fingers on her leg.

Nephenee kicked herself inwardly. _You can't have those thoughts, especially not right now, _she reminded herself, but still she held onto Volke tigher and ground her hips against his lower back as he began his walkthrough. He didn't seem to mind, or at least he didn't show it.

It all seemed to go well; the assassin was pushing his way through the bushes, Nephenee's added weight slowing him down a little. The young woman was glad she had left her armor in her room earlier.

In the middle of the mass of low vegetation, Volke stopped.

"I'm too heavy, you are tired!" Nephenee exclaimed.

"It's not that," he said calmly as he looked around. "I'm searching for the easiest way out of there." He took a step fowards and looked down when his foot crushed something. "Crap."

"What is it?" she asked, trying to look over his shoulder.

"A snake nest, I think I crushed the eggs but-"

Volke was never able to finish his sentence; Nephenee clung to him harder than ever, her legs wrapped around his waist tighly while her arms hugged his torso and his neck in a deathly grip. "S-snake!" she half-shrieked as she buried her face into his neck. "W-w-where!"

The assassin realized he had maybe made a mistake, but not enough oxygen was running through his brain at the moment for him to fully grasp the concept. "Nowhere," he rasped, his face turning a pale shade of blue from lack of air. "Please... let go..."

Nephenee loosened her vice-like grip on the man. "Sorry!" she apologized sheepishly. "I was bitten by a snake when I was little and I nearly died, so ever since I have been afraid of them. It's childish but they frighten me." She caught sight of the spreading red mark on Volke's neck. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, I'll be fine. But don't worry about being bitten, no snake can jump that high."

"What about you?" Nephenee worried. It just didn't seem fair that Volke carried her and thus risked being bitten.

The brown-haired thief shrugged. "I'm not afraid of snakes. Nor do I fear their bites. Extracting poison with a knife is no secret to me, of course I won't need to," he added quickly when he felt Nephenee's grip tighten.

The young woman nodded but she never unhooked her arms from around the thief's neck, and her legs stayed around his waist. Volke didn't mind; in fact he was quite content with it. He resumed walking through the bushes.

Unbeknownst to the two of them, two little shadows were watching from their perch atop a tree.

"I'm really beginning to think Volke didn't need Bastian's lessons," Tormod whispered. "I mean, he was quite the gentleman down there."

"Sure was, but it stops here," Sothe groaned, desperate.

Tormod grabbed the prized sling from his friend. "Just you wait," he grinned as he took a small but pointy rock out of his pocket. "Volke this one is for you, don't mess it up." The boy aimed and fired.

Nephenee tensed as a sharp and sudden pain shot up in her leg, and she let out a small yelp.

"What's wrong?" the assassin asked as he felt her squirm. She better had to stop soon, the way her hips rubbed up against his back was just too distracting for his brain.

"I've been bitten!" Nephenee said fearfully, hugging him tight. "I felt it!"

"No snake can jump that high, you must be mistaken," he assured her, patting her boot in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

"I tell you I've been bitten!" On impulse, Nephenee grabbed Volke's hand and brought it back to rest on her thigh where it hurt. "Right here!"

The first and only fact Volke's brain registered was that her skin was, indeed, very soft and baby-like under his rough fingers. He would gladly have explored this new territory some more, but didn't she say something about a bite? Yes she did... Volke indeed brushed against broken skin, and when he retrieved his fingers there was a small trail of blood smeared on them.

"See?" Nephenee nearly whimpered, not even daring to look at her own leg and choosing to bury her nose into Volke's neck instead.

"I don't think this is a bite. We're almost out of the bushes, we'll take a look at it once we're there." He felt her nod against his neck and he began walking once again, though a bit faster.

At the end he was almost running right through the bushes. His ungloved hands were scratched by the poisoned leaves, leaving his skin red and blistered, but Volke didn't care. If Nephenee truly had been bitten, he needed all the time he could get. The assassin jumped over the last range of bushes in his rush to help her. He forced himself to think he was only doing it to repay her, but to no avail.

"Hold on," the brown-haired thief said as he put her feet down on the ground. He turned around so they were facing each other, Nephenee's arms still around his neck for support. Volke wasted no time wondering what they looked like; he took hold of Nephenee's leg behind her knee and raised it to have a look at the injury.

It was red and swolen, as if what had hit her had done so really fast, and there was some blood too. Volke wiped at it with his thumb; a mere slash, not very long but deep enough to cause pain nonetheless. "Relax, this is no bite," he told her. "Your leg must have caught a protuding branch while we were walking."

Nephenee let out a sigh of relief. Scratches she could deal with, but bites... "Thnak you," she said with all her heart.

"No problem." Volke raised his head, and only then did he notice the strange position they were in: Nephenee's arms were around his neck with her hands clutching the back of his tunic, and her wounded leg was resting up on his hip, while himself had one arm around her waist to support her and his other hand held the leg up against him. "I... I don't think you'll have much trouble walking," Volke finally declared, letting go of the leg.

But neither of the two made any move to pull away. Volke didn't because he was quite content having someone so near for once, and Nephenee because she didn't trust her knees at the moment. Why did she feel like she was going to fall down if she let go of the assassin? Why did he make her feel that way? So much questions, and Nephenee had no answer, but they vanished when she looked up and into Volke's eyes. It was said eyes were the true mirror of one's soul, and the young woman absently wondered if the man in front of her was as warm and soft as his amber orbs looked. Slowly, hesitantly, as if fearing what would happen, she stood on her tiptoes.

Volke's heart skipped a beat. _What is she doing? _his inner voice almost panicked. Almost. Volke never panicked. Unless he was facing that kind of situation. _What is she thinking? Is she going to... kiss me? _As he thought over it, her face had gotten closer. _Damn, she is going to kiss me... Oh well... _He surrendered to the idea rather easily.

Another kind of battle was taking place in Nephenee's mind. _What am I doing? I'm clueless and still I try to... what was I trying to do in the first place? Kiss him? _The blue-armored froze, her nose a mere inch away from Volke's. _What do I do now? _She didn't want him to think she was crazy, so Nephenee pushed a little more on her tiptoes and pecked his cheek. _There... now he must think I' a complete fool, _she winced inwardly and her cheeks reddened under her helmet.

Volke had nearly jumped when the cold metal had touched his cheek, followed by a pair of warm lips. The biggest part of his brain was radiating disappointment, and the darkest was even screaming at him to toss the damned helmet over his shoulder and kiss her senseless.

Which was a pleasant solution.

The helmet he didn't have to take care of, though. As Nephenee bowed her head in thanks, it slipped off and bounced on the ground. The halberdier gasped and made to reach for it, but her slashed limb ouldn't bend and she ended up gripping onto Volke's shirt even more than earlier. She had half a mind to bury her face into his chest to hide it along with her spreading blush.

Nephenee felt the assassin move a little. "Here," he said and she looked up to find her helmet being handed to her. "But in all honesty, you don't need it, because if you think yourself ugly enough to wear this then I have to chop my head off."

Nephenee blinked; did he just... compliment her? Did he just say she was pretty? She hoped her cheeks weren't as red as she thought they were. "No, you... you are handsome," she mumbled as she grabbed her helmet but he was still holding onto it, making it impossible for her to put it on.

The young woman looked up.

Breathtaking was the only word in Volke's vocabulary at that moment. Her face was so delicate he could have sworn it had been carved by an angel; a little perfectly-shaped nose, pink cheeks and her eyes... the purest shade of blue he had ever been granted to look into. At that sight, something broke in the assassin, and he pulled the helmet away.

"What are you-" Nephenee began but she was silenced by his lips on hers. Her first thought was to push him away, but her first move was to take hold of Volke's shoulders.

It was no wild kiss, as the equally wild part of the man's mind would have liked, but it was pleasant nonetheless. It even became enjoyable when she began kissing back. Volke's arms snaked their way around her waist and Nephenee dropped the helmet to the ground to lay her hands flat upon his chest.

Eventually, they had to pull away for air, and Volke cursed his sudden need for oxygen. However it went away when Nephenee hesitantly put her cheek to his shoulder, and the assassin propped his chin on her head, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair.

No word was spoken; still wrapped in the other's arms, they made their way out of the woods and to the stronghold. Nephenee could have walked on her own, and Volke didn't have to help her. But still he helped, and she let him.

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"Mh? Hey, what happened, where are they? Why is night falling? Man, Tormod, I think we fell asleep," Sothe groaned as he nudged his snoring friend.


	6. Circle

_Here it is, the last chapter! I'm thinking of a sequel, read to the end and tell me_**_  
_**

**_Chapter Five, Circle_**

It was only when they reached the barracks that Nephenee realized her helmet was still somewhere in the woods. In fact she didn't care as much as she normally would; she wouldn't have left Volke's arms for all the helmets in the world right then. Nephenee had never felt that way for a man before – well, not that she knew many men besides Brom – and although she was utterly clueless, she kind of enjoyed it. This was the first time the young woman was looking forward to something that was unknown to her.

Volke's mind was elsewhere; they were reaching the barracks now, and the assassin didn't want to leave Nephenee alone, he fully intended to take her back to her quarters. But what would people think if they saw the two of them together? Would they think he was growing old and soft? Volke shook his head and his hold on Nephenee tightened lightly; he had never cared about what people thought of him, and there was no starting now.

Nephenee glanced nervously around her as Volke led the way in the stronghold. She felt uneasy but surprinsingly enough, it didn't bother her all that much that people watched, less than usual anyway. The assassin's embrace was comforting whether he meant for it to be that way or not, and never did she feel so safe. On impulse, Nephenee hugged his waist tighter to express her thanks, and she couldn't help a small smile. Let people stare; for the first time, she felt like she belonged.

A bit farther, Sothe was banging his head against a wall in frustration. "How the hell could we fall asleep at a time like this!" he growled furiously. "In a tree on top of that! I'm doomed, doomed, doomed!" Every time he repeated the word, his forehead collided with the wall.

Bastian grabbed the boy's upper arms to keep him from severely hurting himself. "Don't be that way, at least they remained together for an hour or two," the sage said, trying to be optimistic.

"Yeah, and a big help that was!" Sothe kicked at a rock and Tormod had to duck out of the way. "I give up! I'll learn by myself or whatever! I can't handle the man!"

Bastian sighed heavily. He was about to tell Sothe he could always find another teacher – the sage did pretty well with a dagger, after all – but his sharp sight caught something over the thief's shoulder. The blond man's blue eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and he nearly slapped himself to check if he was dreaming; no he was not. Volke and Nephenee were walking across the courtyard... hugging one another?

"Oh dear Goddess... Sothe, you might want to-"

"I know, I know, it was foolish but it was worth a try," the boy sighed as he sat down beside Tormod. He ran a hand through his strands of forest green hair. "Not only for the lessons, but Volke needs to get a life, and I thought I could help him."

Bastian shook his head, his eyes still glued on the couple. Were they slowing down? "Sothe, you don't understand, they-"

"Absolutely, you are right, they weren't meant to be together, that's why it didn't work out," the young thief nodded. His back was to the courtyard, so he didn't see anything.

"Sothe, just listen, you should-"

"Yeah, I should go to Volke and tell him I give up. I'll never bother the poor man ever again with this."

"I'm coming with you," Tormod said as he patted his friend's shoulder. "This way we can apologize to Nephenee as well. Poor girl, Volke must have scared the living lights out of her, knowing how she feels around most men."

Bastian's thin patience finally disappeared and he yanked the two boys around, growling. "Just look!..." Too late. Volke and Nephenee were already gone.

"Well, what is it?" Sothe asked after a while.

"Um... never mind, my sight deceived me." Bastian wasn't going to tell them, it would be more fun to watch as they discovered on their own. "So, what were you saying about this dear Nephenee again?"

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"I think Bastian's eyes were going to bulge out," Volke chuckled. "It's a good thing Sothe and Tormod didn't turn around, though I don't think the sage will be able to watch his fleeing tongue."

"But why did you slow down so much?" Nephenee smiled.

"Wanted to print that dear count's speechless expression in my memory, it's not something that occurs very often."

The halberdier laughed out; who knew Volke had a funny bone, somewhere? His cooky grin made him even more laughable. Still chuckling, Nephenee pecked his cheek and it only widened his grin. Casually, he opened the door of the room she shared with Calill.

"Wait," she said suddenly. "What if someone passes by?"

"Well, what about it?" Volke asked her.

Nephenee didn't respond right away, she only shifted her weight nervously. She wanted Volke to stay with her, but what if Calill walked in on them? Or anybody else?

"Night is falling," he spoke again quietly. "Do you wish for me to leave? If that is the case, I'll be on my way."

His question and his tone of voice caught Nephenee off guard. He sounded indifferent, but deep down a tingle of disappointment made itself known, and... was it hurt? Nephenee made up her mind at that moment and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Don't want you anywhere farther than two feet," she whispered. "Besides... where's the fun if you don't risk being caught?" Nephenee tried to mirror the assassin's cooky grin as best as she could; those were the first words she had heard him say after she joined the mercenaries.

Volke chuckled and bent down to lay a kiss on her forehead, his rough chin brushing against her delicate temple. "You know it."

"Stay with me... tonight?"

The red-clad man didn't answer, not verbally at least. He just pushed the door open all the way and stepped inside, closing it only when Nephenee was next to him.

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Sitting near one of the barracks was not where Sothe had expected to find Volke that morning. Oh well, there or anywhere else was just the same; the green-haired thief mentally readied himself. Annoying someone was one thing, but apologizing was another, and Sothe was more used to the former than the latter.

Well, Luck seemed to smile at him on this bright new day, because he hadn't even opened his mouth before Volke spoke up, not rising his head though. "Ten o'clock," he said suddenly.

"What?" Sothe blurted out.

"Ten o' clock, sharp, in the courtyard. Bring your daggers."

The boy just stood there, open-mouthed and not yet believing was he had heard. At first he wondered if Volke had finally gone mad, babbling nonsense like that. But then his brain registered what the older thief had said. "Really? I mean, I..."

"You mean this wasn't what you came to speak about?"

"Well I... no! Of course this is what I came for!" Sothe puffed his chest out, hoping his grin was not as wide as he thought it was. But then his act crumbled and he clung to Volke's neck. "Thank you, thank you! Don't worry I won't be late, I'll be the best pupil ever!" He then seemed to realize what he was doing because he threw himself off of Volke and gave a military salute. "I'll do my best, boss! I mean chief... sir... whatever!"

"Will you just run off?" the assassin grumbled, slightly amused.

"At once, boss! Getting my daggers ready, boss!" With that Sothe ran off merrily.

"Don't call me that!" Volke growled. However his voice died down when a pair of warm arms wrapped themselves around his neck from behind and a small weight came to rest upon his nape. "Morning, sleepyhead."

"Morning, Mr. Dawn," Nephenee yawned as she moved her chin to his shoulder. "What are you doing up so early?"

Volke glanced to his right; Sothe was still scampering off probably to tell Tormod the good news. The boy didn't know why the assassin changed his mind, but he didn't care as long as he got to be taught tricks. It suited Volke that he didn't ask anything; a promise was a promise, and Volke always fulfilled his promises. Assassin's honor.

Recalling Nephenee asked him a question, he leaned back against her until his nape was resting in her collarbone. "Nothing, just watching the sunset," he grinned.

The green-haired girl looked up. "Well... sunset's over... why don't you come in?" she asked softly as she fingered the collar of his tunic. "It's getting cold..."

"I couldn't agree more." Volke got up and let Nephenee lead him inside, although his decision had nothing to do with the day's temperature. Indeed it was warm in the room, but a different warmth from what Volke had experienced in his whole life. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but time would help him.

With time, Volke would come to associate this warmth with one word: home.

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Volke turned onto his right side. No better. He tried lying on his stomach again. Nope, no difference. He finally decided to bury his face into his pillow and look like he didn't care. To no avail: the whining voice could still be heard.

"Dad!" the boy repeated for the twentieth time in the last five minutes. "Daaaad! You said we would go fishing today! You promised!" When the only answer he got was silence, the young one shook Volke's shoulder. "Dad!"

"Go 'way," the former assassin mumbled.

The boy growled angrily and stomped away. Volke sighed in relief and rolled onto his side... only to face another problem. Nephenee was awake; she was propped up on her elbow and she didn't look very happy.

"... good morning?" the man tried.

"I don't think so," the woman scolded. _Here we go again_, he thought bitterly. He tried to settle on his stomach once more but Nephenee's hands stopped him. "Don't you turn away, Volke!"

"Nephenee," he groaned pleadingly.

"And don't "Nephenee" me. Did you promise your son you would take him fishing?"

"But Nephenee, dear-"

"Did you?"

Volke growled as his son did a few seconds before. "All right, I did! But it was just so he would leave me alone, I don't care about fishes."

"Well, too bad, you're taking your son fishing today, and "no" won't be one of the answers I'm expecting from you."

The man just shrugged and put his head down once again. "He gave up on the idea, anyway, he's gone," he mumbled.

Nephenee sighed. "He is his father's son, haven't you already noticed?" she said.

Volke was about to ask what she meant by this when a weight landed brutally on his back and he gasped. "Ryo! Get off, kid!"

"Come on Dad, we are going to be late!" the boy sang.

"I don't bloody care! Go ask Sothe, he'll take you!" Volke growled angrily.

Ryo shook his head. "Uncle Sothe says he has got other things to do. He says that everytime, but I'd like to spend time with him! He's great!"

Volke groaned and tried to think of a way to get Sothe to spend time with Ryo, so he could have some peace and quiet. Some hours without the boy hanging onto his back would be nice; although he loved his son, the thief knew Ryo could get very annoying after a few hours.

An idea struck him, and Volke grinned. "Ryo... did I ever tell you what a girlfriend is?"


End file.
